they sped on, no one knew where.

The electric lights in the cabin and the saloons were turned on so that
the boys were not in darkness, and some of the officers moved about among
them telling them that this was simply a squall, and would soon blow
itself out, and that there was nothing to be feared.

The howling of the gale, the creaking and straining of the shrouds, the
thumping and pounding and groaning of the machinery, and the tramping of
men overhead made a combination of sounds that might well terrify anyone,
and the older boys tried to reassure the younger ones that it would be
over in a short time, and that they would soon be sailing on smooth seas
again, and be laughing at their former terrors, but it took a great deal
of faith to make all this believed, and some of those who urged it had
very little confidence in its truth.

Herring, Merritt, and others of the same class were really terrified, and
took on dreadfully, predicting all sorts of dreadful things, and declared
that they were fools to have taken this voyage, and that they would never
undertake another.

Jack Sheldon, Dick Percival, Harry Dickson, and even mercurial Billy
Manners were quite different, however, and young Jesse W. Smith acted like
a man, and although he was frightened, as any one might be, and no shame
to him, did not give way to his fright, but said very wisely that he
guessed the storm had been gotten up for their especial benefit so that
they might know what sort of things they could do in these latitudes.

How long they were rushing before wind and sea they did not know, for it
seemed ages, where they were going they could not guess either as they had